Title Track- Everyone But You
Title: Title Track
Author: faith-omgwtfbbq
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon Ryan/Greenwald/Z-berg Ryan/Pretty much everyone ever.
POV: First, switches between Ryan and Brendon.
Summary: Ryan dreams of Brendon. My heart is beating my throat; it’s like I’m watching from the outside, it’s like I can’t touch him.
Disclaimer: Not real. Don't own. Cut text, and title belong to The Young Veins.
Beta:abwy95
Author Notes: I've taken a random list of songs. Each part of the story is written to be somewhat reminiscent of each song. cross posted to my mibba, and my deviantart.
1| 2| 3
Z leaves the room, shouting about what a shithead I am, how much she hates me; fuck you, Ryan, you asshole.
I roll my eyes and fall back onto the couch. Alex takes out his small plastic bag, filled with my favorite white powder.
“You look like you need a line,” Alex is the tiny devil on my shoulder, and the angel is… I need a line.
I bend down, Alex rubs my shoulders, kisses behind my ears, and I see stars behind my eyelids as the burn in my throat becomes too much and I begin to dry heave.
I love my life.
Before I lose consciousness, I see the face that I’ve seen in my dreams every night for the past three years.
Lips, and lashes, and such smooth skin; Brendon.
“Ryan,” I hear, but it’s not Brendon, because it’s never Brendon, “Ryan! Ryan, wake the fuck up!” It’s Z’s shrill voice, and I think she’s still pissed because I don’t want to marry her. “Quit doing lines on my couch and go home.” she hisses. I loll my head up to look at her and roll my eyes. “Alex is out in you car waiting.”
I don’t want to get married because it’s a waste of time. It’ll just make me want to leave.
//
The pages of my tattered notebook are nearly filled. The day I left Brendon was the day I stopped writing in that thing.
I flip through the pages that haven’t been touched in years, smeared pen, running ink; oh, the memories.
“What are you looking at?” Alex asks, nuzzling his nose into the side of my face.
“Just an old notebook from high school.” I mumble as he leans over my shoulder. I quickly shut my notebook. “So, uh, lunch?” I ask look at his head of messy hair.
“Lunch is good.”
“Text me where we’re meeting in an hour. I need a nap.”
“Sounds good. Later.” He kisses me on the lips, and it tastes terrible, like it always does.
I lay myself down on the couch and close my eyes as Alex slams the front door, like he always does.
I picture a field of sheep, each passing by me slowly.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine…
First come the lips; soft, and pink, and so familiar. Then come the eyes; wide, and brown, and full of adoration. Then the Adam’s apple; bobbing up and down.
My heart is beating my throat; it’s like I’m watching from the outside, it’s like I can’t touch him.
Because I can’t.
I wake up, an hour and forty-six minutes later, and I realize how late I am.
I pull into the parking of whichever restaurant this is, rushing in to explain that I’m meeting someone, and I’m really late.
“Hey. Sorry. Late. Traffic.” I huff as I seat myself across from Alex. “Have you ordered yet?”
He chuckles at my frantic state, the asshole, and shakes his head.
“Cool.” I sigh, taking a sip of his beer.
We speak for a while longer before Alex straightens up at the appearance of the waiter.
“Have you decided yet?”
My head shoots up. My heart stops. I’m going to throw up.
I throw up.
/////////
4. Everyone But You-- The Young Veins.
feedback? :D
PS.
Who read the AP interview? Jwalk was being a total dickface ): It bummed me out like nobodies business ):
cross posted the mibba and deviantart!
Author: faith-omgwtfbbq
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ryan/Brendon Ryan/Greenwald/Z-berg Ryan/Pretty much everyone ever.
POV: First, switches between Ryan and Brendon.
Summary: Ryan dreams of Brendon. My heart is beating my throat; it’s like I’m watching from the outside, it’s like I can’t touch him.
Disclaimer: Not real. Don't own. Cut text, and title belong to The Young Veins.
Beta:abwy95
Author Notes: I've taken a random list of songs. Each part of the story is written to be somewhat reminiscent of each song. cross posted to my mibba, and my deviantart.
1| 2| 3
Z leaves the room, shouting about what a shithead I am, how much she hates me; fuck you, Ryan, you asshole.
I roll my eyes and fall back onto the couch. Alex takes out his small plastic bag, filled with my favorite white powder.
“You look like you need a line,” Alex is the tiny devil on my shoulder, and the angel is… I need a line.
I bend down, Alex rubs my shoulders, kisses behind my ears, and I see stars behind my eyelids as the burn in my throat becomes too much and I begin to dry heave.
I love my life.
Before I lose consciousness, I see the face that I’ve seen in my dreams every night for the past three years.
Lips, and lashes, and such smooth skin; Brendon.
“Ryan,” I hear, but it’s not Brendon, because it’s never Brendon, “Ryan! Ryan, wake the fuck up!” It’s Z’s shrill voice, and I think she’s still pissed because I don’t want to marry her. “Quit doing lines on my couch and go home.” she hisses. I loll my head up to look at her and roll my eyes. “Alex is out in you car waiting.”
I don’t want to get married because it’s a waste of time. It’ll just make me want to leave.
//
The pages of my tattered notebook are nearly filled. The day I left Brendon was the day I stopped writing in that thing.
I flip through the pages that haven’t been touched in years, smeared pen, running ink; oh, the memories.
“What are you looking at?” Alex asks, nuzzling his nose into the side of my face.
“Just an old notebook from high school.” I mumble as he leans over my shoulder. I quickly shut my notebook. “So, uh, lunch?” I ask look at his head of messy hair.
“Lunch is good.”
“Text me where we’re meeting in an hour. I need a nap.”
“Sounds good. Later.” He kisses me on the lips, and it tastes terrible, like it always does.
I lay myself down on the couch and close my eyes as Alex slams the front door, like he always does.
I picture a field of sheep, each passing by me slowly.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine…
First come the lips; soft, and pink, and so familiar. Then come the eyes; wide, and brown, and full of adoration. Then the Adam’s apple; bobbing up and down.
My heart is beating my throat; it’s like I’m watching from the outside, it’s like I can’t touch him.
Because I can’t.
I wake up, an hour and forty-six minutes later, and I realize how late I am.
I pull into the parking of whichever restaurant this is, rushing in to explain that I’m meeting someone, and I’m really late.
“Hey. Sorry. Late. Traffic.” I huff as I seat myself across from Alex. “Have you ordered yet?”
He chuckles at my frantic state, the asshole, and shakes his head.
“Cool.” I sigh, taking a sip of his beer.
We speak for a while longer before Alex straightens up at the appearance of the waiter.
“Have you decided yet?”
My head shoots up. My heart stops. I’m going to throw up.
I throw up.
/////////
4. Everyone But You-- The Young Veins.
feedback? :D
PS.
Who read the AP interview? Jwalk was being a total dickface ): It bummed me out like nobodies business ):
cross posted the mibba and deviantart!